


Making Do

by ValmureEld



Category: Pushing Daisies
Genre: Couple, Cuddle, Cute, F/M, Heartbeat, Pulse - Freeform, Touch, finally getting to (sort of) touch, snuggle, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValmureEld/pseuds/ValmureEld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck is tired of not being able to cuddle with Ned, so she comes up with a solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Do

The lights were already off when she sat up and clicked them back on. “I've made up my mind.” she said, throwing off her covers. He propped himself up on his elbows.

“Chuck? What's....going on?” he frowned, watching her clamber out of bed and pick a sweatshirt off of the dresser. She tossed it to him and he caught it. 

“Just trust me. We could dance with those bee-suits, and we could kiss through the plastic wrap. I see no reason why we can't cuddle.” She threw a pair of gloves at him as well, pulling on a long sleeved shirt and some thin gloves for herself. 

“No, Chuck, no. We can't cuddle, we can't—I can't risk forgetting myself and—touching you.” the last two words came out as a whisper, his brows furrowed in imagined horror. How many dozens of times had he imagined accidentally brushing her skin, only to have her collapse dead in his arms? 

She walked over to his bed and sat on the edge of it, causing him to skitter back like a spooked foal. “You won't forget yourself. I trust you, Ned. Now put those on. I'm getting cold outside of my sheets and I know for a fact that body heat can get through a sweatshirt.”

“B-but, what if that's all it takes? Heat? I mean, the plastic didn't conduct it very well, plastic is a non-porous substance, we don't know if regular fabric will be all right we-” he gasped so hard she thought his chest was going to crack under the strain. She had placed her hand on his thigh, which was covered in a pair of old sweatpants. He stared at her hand, then up at her face, as though waiting for her to keel over. 

She gave him a gentle smile. “I'm okay, see?” She lifted her hand, waving her fingers at him. “Still alive.” 

He remained staring at her, but slowly pulled the hoodie over his head and worked the gloves onto his fingers. 

“Lay down, try to relax. You're going to give yourself muscle strain.” 

Hesitantly, he lay back flat, pulling the covers nearly up to his chin, still tucking his body as close to the wall as he could. She smiled gently and curled her fingers around the edge of the blankets, pulling in the opposite direction. His startled fingers let go in an instinctive need not to brush hers, and she worked the blanket down to his stomach, smoothing them there. Slowly, she eased towards him, her bright eyes reassuring him with a constant, easy smile. That same light he was so afraid of extinguishing showing how very much she trusted him. “It's okay, Ned.” she mumured, her face turned to the side so that her ear was a mere inch from his heaving chest. “You ready?” He shook his head no.

“I don't want to risk it--” 

She placed a gloved hand on his cotten-swathed ribs. “It's going to be okay, just close your eyes.” 

Slowly, fearfully, his breathing still too fast, he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut and turning his head away as her warm weight pressed against his chest. For a few moments he stopped breathing all together, just like he had when he'd first seen her, and hadn't realized he'd done. 

“Hey.” He felt a tap against his ribs. “Still alive?” When he opened his eyes her smile was bright, and so very happy. “You stopped breathing, thought the whole plan might have backfired.” 

He grinned, drawing breath shakily, relishing the weight of her head against his ribs, making it harder, and yet so much easier than normal to breathe. “You're okay.”

“Told you.” She closed her eyes, the happy smile remaining. “Mmm, your heart is going really fast.” She lay a gloved hand next to her face, which was pressed against his living heart. “You're going to strain it, if you're not careful.” 

“Casulty of my situation, I'm afraid.” 

“What situation is that?” she asked, opening her eyes again. 

His smile was easier this time. “Love.” 

“Well that makes sense.” She closed her eyes again, gently rubbing the thick plate of bone that protected him so faithfully. “It's slowing down.” Her voice was soft, and she nuzzled into his warmth and his sound. “Do you ever think about your own heartbeat? How amazing it is, that you're alive? Ever since you brought me back it's all I've been able to think about. I never really noticed hearts before.” Her smile became more content, and the deep, rich sound of Ned's pulse wrapped around her like his arm's couldn't. “Beautiful, absolutely beautiful.” 

Hesitantly, he raised his hand, his fingers shaking as they touched her hair, threading through it. Gloved as they were, he still feared consequences. He relaxed when nothing happened, purely content to stroke the silky locks through his safe barrier. “What is?” 

“Your heart. You are beautiful, Ned.” 

“Only because you see me that way.” he smiled back, eyes half-lidded. A warm buzz was humming through him from their point of contact, where her warmth mixed with his warmth and created a pull of love and life that rendered thread barriers inconsequential.


End file.
